


My Little Sister

by OccamyEggshells



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Study, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 08:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18090914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OccamyEggshells/pseuds/OccamyEggshells
Summary: A study on Leta and Yusuf's relationship through the years





	My Little Sister

Yusuf smiles politely as a woman takes a drink off of the tray he’s holding. Turning away from the people dancing around him, Yusuf heads into the kitchen and sets his empty tray onto the counter. As the house-elves prepare more drinks for him to bring out to the party, Yusuf leans against a wall and tries to calm his erratic heart.

Lestrange is out there mingling with other higher class people. It was only three years ago that Yusuf himself was a guest at Lestrange’s holiday party. The night had been beautiful, his mother and father glided around the dance floor. Pure-bloods from all nations shook Yusuf’s hand and told him what a bright young man he was. What a glorious future he had ahead of him. Now they didn’t look twice as he wore his serving uniform.

Ever since his father died two months ago, Yusuf has been looking for ways to infiltrate Lestrange’s home. The wards were too ancient and guarded for Yusuf to get around, so the only way left was to be invited. Lestrange’s need to own people was going to be his downfall. He saw himself as too good to have house-elves serve his guests. He needed the power of forcing people to do his work. When Yusuf showed up to be a server, nobody batted an eyelash. The pure-blooded heir of the Kama family would never lower himself for such work.

Pushing his body away from the wall, Yusuf leaves the kitchen, ignoring the house-elves as they call for him to grab the drinks. Yusuf keeps his eyes ahead as he swerves through the masses of the crowd. A phantom grip digs deeply into his arm, the pain brings tears to his eyes. He has to complete his promise to his father now or he will never do it.

Climbing the stairs in the foyer two at a time, Yusuf heads off toward the family wing of the home. An obsidian blade is pressed against his forearm in a holster, waiting against his aching arm for the moment of truth. Each door that he opens fails to reveal Lestrange’s baby. A part of him wants to get caught, to be thrown out to start his quest all over again. The rational part of his mind, however, reminds him that it is less cruel to kill the baby before it’s old enough to comprehend what’s happening.

The third to last door in the hall reveals a nursery and Yusuf summons the knife to his hand as he steps inside. Inside the crib, Lestrange’s baby is awake, he can hear the baby gurgling to itself. Yusuf closes the door and walks fully into the room. Moonlight shines in from the window, illuminating the dark wood on the furniture. The candles in the room have long since been put out as the wax is already dry. Yusuf peers down into the crib, the knife is gripped tightly in his hand. Taking a deep breath, Yusuf tries to calm his breathing, his hand is shaking terribly. Lestrange’s baby looks up at him curiously before breaking out into a smile. Her gumless grin lights up her face as she kicks her legs excitedly. She reaches her hands up toward Yusuf.

“Hello,” he whispers to her, despite every part of his emotional training to get to this moment. Up until this moment, he saw the baby as Lestrange’s. The spawn of the man who captured and killed his mother, it only now does it sink in that the baby is his mother’s as well. Even if she didn’t consent to having the child, Yusuf knows his mother would have loved her anyway. Laurena was such a kind soul, she loved everyone and went out of her way to show it. She’d be angry to know what Yusuf and his father were planning on doing, no matter how justified they thought that they were.

Holding the knife up, Yusuf knows that it isn’t about what Laurena wants anymore. It’s about Mustafa now. If his mother had to choose between the life of her son or the life of her daughter, Yusuf has faith that she would have chosen him.

His sister looks at the knife in interest, straining her arm as she reaches up higher to touch it. Just as Yusuf is about to stab the knife into his sister’s heart, he hears voices out in the hall. Cursing to himself, he looks for somewhere to hide. The knob on the door turns as Yusuf drops onto the ground and hides underneath the crib. White elegant sheets hung from the crib hide Yusuf from sight as Lestrange enters the room. A woman follows in behind him, her heels and ankles the only parts of her Yusuf can see.

“Rosier is just as shameful,” Lestrange says to the woman, continuing whatever conversation they were having in the hallway. “He too only has a daughter to show for his bloodline. His wife, however, is trying to produce him a son.”

“I know Corvus,” the woman, whose voice allows Yusuf to identify her as Clarisse Tremblay. “I’m doing the best that I can.” Her words are hesitant as she speaks and Yusuf remembers that French is not Clarisse’s first language.

“Stupid girl,” Lestrange says to her condescendingly. “Stay and keep the baby quiet. I don’t want to see you for the rest of the night.”

Clarisse must have nodded because Lestrange pauses for a moment before leaving. Yusuf bites his lip as he shifts his body under the crib. The knife cuts into his finger and he tries to stop himself from making a noise. Breathing through his nose, Yusuf realizes that he’s free from his burden. Lestrange doesn’t love the baby. He couldn’t even refer to her by name. He’s angry that she isn’t a son. Lestrange also clearly doesn’t love Clarisse, so Yusuf doesn’t have to kill her instead.

Yusuf can’t help but grin as he holds his finger. He’s free.

* * *

His sister is taller than the last time he saw her. She’s almost seven now, but she looks older. When Yusuf heard the ship carrying Corvus sank, his first thought went to Leta rather than the boy. He poured over any news about survivors, and six days after the ship sank, he got the news. Leta Lestrange, age 6, survivor. Little Corvus didn’t live, his name was listed among those deceased. Once again, Yusuf is free of his curse.

Leta walks along with a servant, the small woman holding tightly onto Leta’s hand. Lestrange is nowhere to be seen. While other survivors are being embraced by family, Leta walks silently with the servant. Her eyes aren’t scanning the crowd in the slightest. She’s accepted that her father isn’t here.

Yusuf walks over to her, wanting to give her comfort. He may be happy that Corvus is dead, but he was his sister’s brother. For that, he feels he has to apologize. “Excuse me, ma’am,” Yusuf stops in front of Leta and the servant, he kneels down to be eye level with his sister. “I’m sorry for your loss.” He places his large hand on her shoulder.

The servant clearly recognizes him, she pulls on Leta’s hand as if to act like they’re in a hurry.

Leta looks at Yusuf with their mother’s eyes and nods to him. “Thank you, sir,” her voice is soft and tears gather in her eyes.

“Leta,” the small woman urges. “We need to go.”

Yusuf takes one last look at Leta before standing up. “I hope all is well for you, mademoiselle.”

* * *

Leta Lestrange was enrolled at Hogwarts, becoming the first of the French branch of the Lestrange family not to go to Beauxbatons. Yusuf knew it was to keep Leta submerged in Lestrange’s blood game. Having failed to produce a living son, Leta was Lestrange’s only heir. He needed her to marry pure and if Yusuf somehow managed to use the Kama influence to talk to Leta while she was at Beauxbatons, Lestrange would lose her forever.

Hogwarts, despite what Lestrange thought, gave Yusuf an opportunity to see his sister. He watched as the students piled into Hogsmeade, talking happily to each other as they walked down the cobblestone street. Leta walks with a brown-haired boy, he can’t see her face because of the green and silver scarf wrapped tightly around her, but he can tell that she’s laughing. Her shoulders shake as she shoves the boy playfully. The boy stumbles for a moment before falling in a snowbank. He looks up at Leta with wide eyes. Leta laughs some more before offering her hand to help him stand up. Taking her hand, the boy wastes no time in pulling Leta down into the snow with him. Leta makes a sputtered sound before yanking the boy’s yellow and black scarf off of his face. She shoves snow into the wool before trying to shove it down the boy’s coat.

Yusuf smiles into his glass of butterbeer as he watches her from inside the warmth of the Three Broomsticks. His moral dilemma as of late has been whether or not he should try to take Leta away from Lestrange and raise her himself. No matter how much he wants to save his sister, he knows that his rescue would be a curse. Leta is currently a pawn in Lestrange’s life, but she still has her free-will. If Yusuf were to take her, Lestrange would surely pursue. If Yusuf, Laurena, and Mustafa could not fend off Lestrange, how could Yusuf even imagine to do it alone?

By now, Leta and the boy have gotten out of the snow. The boy holds his soaking scarf in his hand with a frown. Leta smiles at him and untangles her own scarf, wrapping it around the boy’s face. Yusuf watches them fondly, seeing so much of his mother’s kindness and joy in his little sister. Leta takes the boy’s wrist and pulls him into a store, out of Yusuf’s sight.

* * *

“You’ve been watching me,” Leta sits across from him. She’s fifteen now and very much so becoming her own woman.

“Do you make a habit of talking to people you believe to be watching you?” He asks, leaning forward on his forearms.

A smile tugs at her lips as she waves over a waitress. She orders a drink for herself and easily tells the waitress to add her drink to Yusuf’s tab.

Other students from Hogwarts inside of the pub glare at Leta, she’s clearly disliked. If this bothers Leta, she doesn’t show it.

“I don’t make a habit, you’re special because you’re family.” She leans back in her seat.

“What brings you to that conclusion?” He asks curiously. Yusuf has doubts that Lestrange would tell his daughter about her family history.

“I’m capable of doing the research you know,” Leta says, crossing her arms defensively. “I’m not stupid. I know that you’re Yusuf Kama and I know that you’re my half brother.”

“I don’t think that you’re stupid,” Yusuf replies honestly. “I’m glad you know who I am. I was curious about you.”

“And you didn’t approach me because of my father,” Leta supplies. “Everyone’s so afraid of him, but nobody understands that under all of his power he’s a disgusting man. If he wasn’t a pure-blood, he would be incarcerated.”

“You’re much wiser than I gave you credit for. I assumed you’d be deluded under his mentalities until you reached adulthood.”

Leta glares at him, offended that he ever thought that. Her glare wavers however and she looks down into her lap. The waitress sets a butterbeer in front of her before walking away.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, realizing that Leta would only openly approach him if it was important.

“Have you done anything bad?” She asks softly.

“What do you mean by something bad?” He asks, pushing away the memory of trying to kill the girl in front of him.

“Something morally incomprehensible,” Leta clarifies.

“I have much doubt that someone can do something morally incomprehensible at age fifteen.”

Leta sighs softly and holds onto her glass as she gathers her thoughts. More students walk by and sneer at her, but they scuttle off as Yusuf shoots them a glare.

“I have this friend,” she pauses, “I  _ had  _ this friend. I don’t think he’ll want to be friends with me after he realizes what a terrible person I am.”

“There isn’t much advice I can give if I do not know the situation,” Yusuf says gently.

“The details aren't important,” Leta says. “I hurt him. Deeply. We made a stupid decision and I let him take all of the blame. He got expelled for it. It’s been a month and he’s been sending me letters. Not about anything specific, I think he’s trying to give me solidarity now that I don’t have friends anymore. I’ve been ignoring the letters. I just feel so terrible, he had this look in his eyes when we were in Black’s office.”

Yusuf reaches across the table and takes Leta’s hand. “You aren’t under any obligation to this boy. He may have made a sacrifice for you, but under no means are you required to give anything into that relationship that you’re not ready to give.”

“It’s not just that,” Leta says, squeezing Yusuf’s hand. “He called me Leta.”

Yusuf raises an eyebrow in confusion. “Is that not your name?”

“Yes it’s my name, it’s just,” Leta uses her other hand to wipe her eyes. “Everyone calls me Lestrange, or freak, or useless, or any other derogatory name. Professors call me Leta sometimes, but it wasn’t the same as when Newt did. He saw me as a person and I hurt him.”

“Everyone hurts someone in their lives. I certainly have. You need to learn to forgive yourself.”

“So it’s not a Lestrange trait? I get it from a different side of the family.” Leta looks up at him and Yusuf sees a striking resemblance to how she looked when she was six.

“No, it’s not just a Lestrange trait,” he confirms. “It’s a human trait.”

Leta pulls her hand away and straightens her back. A weight has been lifted off of her, but Yusuf still feels like she’s carrying heavier burdens.

“Thank you,” she says simply, pushing her undrunken butterbeer towards Yusuf. She gets up from the table and exits the pub.

* * *

Yusuf looks at the butterbeer across the table as he sits in the Leaky Cauldron. Leta hasn’t shown up, but it’s still five minutes off from noon. Yusuf taps his fingers against his leg. His sister is twenty-nine now. She never approached Yusuf again during her years at Hogwarts and after her graduation, she threw herself into the politics of the war. Yusuf almost thought that Leta had forgotten about him until he received an invitation to her wedding. The moment he read the invitation, he wrote to his sister asking to meet her.

“I’m not a child Yusuf,” comes a woman’s voice from behind him. “You could have ordered me something a bit stronger than a butterbeer.”

Yusuf smiles at her nods his head to the seat across from him. “I figured I should play it safe.”

Leta offers him a small smile. “How are you?” She asks. “Tell me about you. There’s so much I don’t know about you.”

“I’m an old tale that would bore you,” he says, brushing off her questions. “Tell me about Scamander. Is he good to you?”

Leta can’t help but smile fully. “Theseus is the most amazing man I’ve ever met. He’s brave, selfless, and kind. He has such a sense of humor and he cares deeply about his family.”

Yusuf frowns. “Is he a pureblood?”

“The blood in his veins is pure, but if he were a muggle, I’d love him just the same.”

“How does your father feel about him?” Yusuf asks.

“Furious,” Leta supplies, careless of the implications that brings. “He threatened to disown me, but I’ve called him on his bluff. I don’t think he’s going to full-on riot because Theseus is a pureblood and a war hero.”

“He’s the one you were friends with at Hogwarts,” Yusuf says, connecting the dots. “The one with the brown hair and freckled face.”

Leta shakes her head. “Theseus was a fifth year when I was a first year. Newt was my friend when I was younger. He’s Theseus’s little brother.”

“So you were friends with one man and now you’re marrying his brother?”

Leta gives him a soft glare. “Newt and I were never like that. He’s my friend and he’s Theseus’s best man. I know that he’ll be an amazing uncle to our children.”

“That is actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Leta frowns. “You wanted to talk to me about Newt?”

“I don’t want to talk about either of the Scamanders if they’re treating you well,” Yusuf says. “I want to talk about any children that you may end up having.”

“I’d like to tell them about you,” Leta starts. “I don’t know you all too well, but you have been nothing but kind to me. There are not a lot of people in my life who I can say that about.”

Yusuf shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “You can’t have children.”

“Don’t say that,” Leta says worriedly. “Is there some sort of genetic condition?”

“Lestrange is desperate for an heir,” Yusuf confesses quietly. “If you birth a son, Lestrange would love the child.”

Leta shakes her head. “He can love my son all he wants, but he’ll never be in my son’s life.”

“It doesn’t matter if he meets your son or not. He’ll love the idea of him and he’ll love him so much that..” Yusuf can’t bring himself to confess that he’d have to kill his sister’s son. Especially after he was moments away from killing his sister on the narrowest belief that Lestrange might have cared.

“Yusuf,” she stands up, leaving another full butterbeer in front of her brother. “I will never understand you.”

“No, I doubt I’d understand myself either.”

Leta rests her hand on his shoulder for a brief moment before leaving.

* * *

Theseus Scamander holds a croissant limply in his hand as he watches the sunrise. Yusuf gently eases the sleeping woman who he gave his coat to off his shoulder as he walks over to the other man. “Are you okay?” He asks his sister’s fiance.

“No. Maybe, I will be,” Scamander replies numbly. “Eventually.”

Yusuf sits next to him and stares off into the distance.

“She wasn’t supposed to be there,” Theseus whispers desperately as if he could reason with the universe to get her back. “We were in the French ministry and she went off to get her family tree, and next time I see her, she’s walking down into the circle and-”

Yusuf puts a hand on his shoulder as Scamander starts to hyperventilate. Newt Scamander looks at them from where he’s perched on top of an old mossy bench across the graveyard. A bundle of dark fur is in his lap and is eating the croissant that the younger Scamander abandoned. He looks at his older brother with tears in his eyes. The American auror sitting next to him doesn’t raise her head from where she has it buried in her hands.

Looking away from the other people around him, Yusuf continues to rub Theseus’s back. “I appreciate you taking care of her,” Yusuf says softly.

Scamander gives a teary laugh. “Leta took more care of me than I ever did of her. She knew exactly what to do to keep my mind off the war. She was so collected and-” Scamander gets up, he’s too pent up to sit still. “It’s not fair!” He cries out.

The American non-majique mumbles a quiet ‘cheers’ under his breath to Scamander’s words.

“She took care of me too,” Yusuf tells Scamander. “When I lost my mother, I lost myself as well. Looking after her gave me purpose, and as it would turn out, her biggest burden unknowingly saved my life.”

Scamander doesn’t have a response to that, instead, he raises what’s left of his crostant toward the sun as if doing cheers. “To Leta.”

“To Leta,” Yusuf and the younger Scamander echo.


End file.
